


What Happens To Your Heroes After They've Saved The World?

by Persnicketysquares123



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M, Mind Control, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17687030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persnicketysquares123/pseuds/Persnicketysquares123
Summary: After the Battle of New York they needed a scapegoat and Clint was all too happy to take the fall, his guilt and depression eating him alive. Little did he know that after a year and a half his neighbour would be the Winter Soldier.





	What Happens To Your Heroes After They've Saved The World?

**Author's Note:**

> Could be updating the other fic, but the plot bug bit and I had to get this idea out of my brain box onto some kind of paper. So here it is, let me know if there are any spelling errors or things that don't make sense. Hope people enjoy! Comments, kudos and constructive criticism are all greatly received but not necessary, hope you like it!

Clint heard a commotion outside his cell, it sounded like guards dragging another prisoner back to their cell, maybe after a trip to the interrogators, or maybe just someone being rowdy. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, so he merely rolled over on his cot and stared at the wall. He heard the footsteps and shuffling move past his cell glass and the sound of the cell next to him being opened and closed after a muffled thump of what he guessed was someone being dumped in the room. Again, he couldn’t care less about the person in the room next door, he was too numb. The person in the cell next to him was probably just as guilty or more so of the crimes they were accused of. He stared at the blank wall and lost himself in his thoughts, his memories, as they played through in HD.

_Flashback ___

__

__Clint flexed his arms as he came to in the secure holding cell on the ‘carrier, breaking the hold Loki had on him. He looked blearily at Natasha as she began speaking. “Clint, you’re going to be all right,” she reassured him quietly. His eyes focused blearily on the ceiling tiles and bleakly asked. “You know that? Is that what you know? I’ve got no window, I have to flush him out,” she reassured him again, telling him he’d recover eventually. Clint replied, his muddled brain having him ask if Nat had ever gone through something similar, even though he knew her past, knew she had been through worse in his opinions. They used her for years, he was a God’s puppet for only a few days. “How many agents did I…” he trailed off, not sure if he wanted to know, if he could deal with that guilt on his conscience. “Don’t do that to yourself Clint, this is Loki,” she scolded, hoping that he wouldn’t blame himself too much. Steve had radioed in earlier that Phil hadn’t made it, that Fury had called it and showed them bloodied trading cards. She had no idea how Clint would take it when he knew. Well she did know, and she was afraid for him, afraid of what he would do to himself when he found out, so when Steve walked in she mouthed, “don’t tell Clint about Coulson” and received a slight nod in recognition. He addressed the pair when Clint came back into the room, “can you fly one of those jets?”_ _

__

__Clint nodded, “I can.” Steve looked at Natasha in askance, wondering if the other man was himself again, if Loki was truly gone. She nodded slightly, confirming Clint was as well adjusted as he could be at that moment in time. “You got a suit?”_ _

__

__“Yeah,”_ _

__

__“Then suit up,” replied Steve. “We’ve got a world to save.”_ _

_Flashback end ___

__

__It was later in the evening when there was a bang at the glass of his cell. “Oi, birdbrain, foods here, you know the drill,” Clint did, he rolled over from facing the wall, sitting up getting into the non-threatening position he’d been trained to do in the past year and a half, watching as the guard slid the food tray through a slot at the bottom of the glass wall. “Ok, all yours feathers,” the guard moved away to the next cell. “Oi, freezer brain, your turn, sit on the bed, feet flat on the floor and hands flat on your knees. Don’t move or we’ll gas you unconscious and you’ll get to spend some time with one of our guards after you regain consciousness. You gonna co-operate?” there was silence from his neighbour before a brief and quiet, “yes” accompanied by more shuffling._ _

___ _

___“Good, here’s your food, when you’re done, put the tray back where you got it from and sit on the bed like before. You’ll get used to the rules pretty quick around here, even someone like you,” Clint briefly wondered what the guard meant by that as he moved to get his food off the paper tray. All the food in this place was on paper trays, less damage can be done with paper, although Clint still knew about 7 ways to kill someone with folded paper, more if it was card. He calmly took his food and sat back on his bed, eating with his hands as none of the people in his block were allowed cutlery, deemed too dangerous to be given silverware, not giving much thought to the man next to him. He ate mechanically, not paying attention to the food he was eating nor the sounds from the cell next door as the other man was doing the same. As he finished, he stood from his place on the cot and dropped the empty tray and plate back by the glass front. He heard a faint noise from next door, shuffling and a brief thump as the other man did the same. Clint spoke for the first time in days. “Dump your tray and move back quickly, getting gassed is no fun. Just a friendly warning from one convict to another,” having done his civic duty, he sloped away back to the bed. He faintly heard the other man moving and a quiet, “thanks,” in reply._ _ _

___ _

___“Don’t mention it,” Clint replied, thumping his head back against the wall. “Don’t make trouble and you’ll do ok in here. Keep to yourself and we’ll get on well. Get some sleep, you’ve probably got a session with the interrogators tomorrow.” Clint lay down facing the wall again, pulling his thin blanket over his body and curling up small. Once again he heard a small voice respond to his advice. “Interrogators? They won’t be as bad as the men I was with before. But thank you for the warning anyway.” Then silence reigned between the 2 cells as, unknown to them, they took the same positions on their small beds, staring at their walls in despair. And remaining there, fell into restless sleep._ _ _


End file.
